Mercy
by FeathersMcStrange
Summary: Angel of mercy, how did you find me? The war is raging on, and Sam and Dean are falling apart. Their relationship is in tatters, and the air is tense and angry. But throughout it all there was one person who was simply there to stop them from self destructing. To remind them that the other still cared, and that they were not in this fight alone. Set S4/5. No slash. Warnings insid


**The song is Mercy by OneRepublic. It, needless to say, does not belong to me. Set during seasons four and five, when Sammy was addicted to demon blood. I was just up at one AM thinking how nice it would have been if their angel would have helped them through the whole ordeal. **

**Warnings: Let's see... Suicidal, self hating Sammy. One brief mention of bad John. Not a fan of Ruby. Swear words. NOT slash or a deathfic. **

**Any thoughts? Leave me a review! I love to hear from you guys!**

**Cheers**

**FeathersMcStrange**

* * *

_Angel of Mercy_

_How did you find me_

_Where did you read my story_

Sam Winchester was disgusted with himself. He looked down at his arms, at the blue veins just beneath the skin. The veins containing his tainted blood, the crimson reminder of his own failures, of how inhumanly _wrong_ he had become. He held Ruby's knife in his right hand, the blade hovering over his left wrist trembling with his fingers clenched around the handle. That blood, that awful, _dirty _blood was making him _sick_ and he wanted it _gone._

"Sam. Do not do that."

The voice from behind Sam was soft, kind, and a little sad. He felt the flat of the blade land against his skin, the cool metal pressing over his arteries as he went limp, slumping back against the wall behind him.

"How did you find me?" he asked. Castiel sat down beside him, reaching over and taking the knife. His fingers were warm and gentle, pulling the weapon away.

"I looked. You did not hide yourself well." Cas sighed, shoulder lightly pressed against Sam's, a silent _I'm here._ "You should not be thinking of doing such things. Suicide is a sin. More than that, your brother needs you. This planet, this war needs you."

A shaky breath, blown out almost like a hollow laugh.

"Why do you care? I'm nothing. I'm a monster. The boy with the demon blood. An abomination."

Looking over, Sam saw Castiel's face turned towards him, eyes full of nothing but sympathy and compassion. There was none of the hatred, none of the disgust that he had expected to see.

"You are not a monster, Samuel Winchester. It is not your fault, what happened to you when you were six months old. That was the demon. It is no cause for you to hate yourself this much."

"Are you an angel of mercy?" Sam's voice was low and quivering, and filled with wonder. Castiel chuckled softly, shaking his head.

"No. I am the angel of Thursday. It does not take one for whom mercy is their job to forgive a crime that was never committed."

Sam closed his eyes and shook his head. Cas sighed again.

"Your story has been a tragedy, Sam. I just hope you will stop before it ends like one as well. Remember please, that your brother will always be there when you need him. And I am here as well. I am not leaving. Not until you are safe in your own hands once more."

_Pulled from the papers_

_Desperate and hardened_

_Seeking a momentary fix_

Things were not much better for the older of the Winchester brothers. He was sitting in their motel room, unaware that his baby brother was once again contemplating ending his life, staring at the door. Any moment now Sam was going to walk in with yet another half-assed excuse for his absence. Probably out with Ruby again... Dean still couldn't believe that Sam trusted that black eyed bitch more than him. Granted he had been gone for a while, but it wasn't like it was something he had done on purpose! Sam had no right to still be angry at him for the whole deal thing. That had been Dean's decision. One he had made with the sole purpose of protecting his family.

He had thought he was past this, past feeling so helpless all the time. Dean was hardened against the cruelty of the world, living his life seeking momentary relief from every second of his waking nightmare.

"You should not be so hard on yourself, Dean. You are only human."

"Cas, I told you not to just pop in like that," he said, though his voice lacked anything resembling venom.

The truth of the matter being that he was just too damn _tired._ His world was crumbling down around his ears, the devil wanted his little brother, an archangel wanted him. His best friend was a celestial being with no sense of humor, and his father was a piss poor excuse for the word even when he had been alive. All his life, Dean's only real job had been 'Take care of Sammy'. But now that Sammy was with Ruby, Dean wasn't sure he was competent to even manage that any more.

"You are doing the best you can."

"What?" Dean looked up to see Cas standing in front of him, looking at him with something akin to concern.

"It is not your fault, what is happening to Sam. You are being too hard on yourself. It is not your fault, and you are merely doing the best you can." Castiel knelt down so they were eye to eye. "You must stop placing so much blame on yourself, Dean. It will be the death of you one day. You must learn how to be as forgiving of yourself as you are of Sam. That boy could do anything and you would still love him. Why do you refuse yourself the same courtesy?"

Dean did not reply, just breathed in heavily.

"I'm trying Cas," he finally said, voice small and quivering. "I'm tryin' to save him, but it's so damn hard when it doesn't seem like he wants to be saved... I don't know what to do. My brother's drowning and I can't seem to figure out how to save him."

Dutifully ignoring the tremor in his friend's voice, Castiel regarded the broken man before him with kind blue eyes.

"Don't give up on him yet. And don't give up on yourself either. You are not alone in this fight, Dean Winchester. You have your brother, despite what it may seem, you have Robert, and you have me. For lack of anything better, I can promise you that I at least am not going to abandon you. Either of you."

There were not enough words in the English language to express how much Dean desperately wanted to believe him.

_All I wanted to say_

_All I wanted to do_

_Is fall apart now_

He couldn't take it anymore.

His brother hated him, he was doomed, and the world was on the verge of an honest to God (if he was even around to be honest to anymore) Apocalypse.

Sam was falling apart.

He was sick of being strong. Sick of fighting, sick of exorcisms, and salt and burns, and ghosts, and monsters, and _fucking _demons and angels _warring_. He wanted it all to be over, but there was no escape. Everything he wanted was out of reach. Everything he wanted to do was impossible (_I can't make it stop, why can't I just makeitstopstopstop...)_ everything he wanted to say was silenced _(Dean please, I didn't mean to. I still need you, I still need my brother, I want my brother back.)_

_All I wanted to feel_

_I wanted to love_

_Its all my fault now_

_A Tragedy I fear_

He couldn't take it anymore.

His brother was changed, he was scared, and the world as he knew it had been destroyed right before his very eyes.

Dean was falling apart.

He was sick of all the shit that kept happening to them. Sick of every goddamned evil son of a bitch out there having it in for his brother, sick of failing, sick of not being able to protect his family. He was never able to love someone without losing them. He was poison. Everything he touched wilted and died. It was his fault. They were a Shakespearean tragedy, and it was approaching the final act. And just so you know, the hero dies in this one. Dean knew it. Because life could never resist that one last hit.

_Angel of Mercy_

_How did you find me_

_How did you pick me up again_

"All is not lost."

Sam lifted his head wearily from the pillow, not able to move much thanks to the restraints keeping him pinned to the panic room bed. Castiel stood beside him, looking down at him but not in a way that made him feel at all inferior. There was something about him, a trait he had yet to see in any other angel. He had a type of innocence about him, an easy understanding that made you feel like everything was _going to be okay. _

"The worst is over. The blood is gone. You will be alright."

"How did you find me?" Sam echoed his earlier self in a voice that was barely a sandpaper whisper. Castiel's face adopted that strange almost half not quite smile that he was so good at by now. He knew that Sam wasn't talking about the panic room. He was talking about himself. His soul. He wanted to know how Castiel, an angel of the Lord, managed to look past the Boy King and Lucifers vessel, and just see him. Just find Sam.

But Castiel did not answer his question. Just merely sat down beside him, keeping the boy quiet company while he suffered through the consequences of overwhelming loss. Loss leading to pain, leading to desperation, leading to blood.

So much blood...

That was over now. They were on their way out. Sam was sleeping, Dean was outside, and Castiel was keeping watch. Everything was going to be okay. He had picked up the pieces of Sam Winchester and carefully glued them back together, with the help of Sam's older brother and surrogate father. The four of them may not have been perfect, but they worked.

_Angel of Mercy_

_How did you move me_

_Why am I on my feet again_

_And I see you_

"How did we ever make it through that?" Dean wondered aloud, kneeling beside his brother's bed and gently stroking his hair away from his face. They had since moved Sam out of the panic room after Cas deemed him no longer dangerous to himself or to them. "How the Hell did we survive that?"

Castiel tilted his head to the side and leaned back against the wall. It was such a human gesture that it threw Dean for a loop, until he shook his head and focused his attention back on Sam. The questions were rhetorical, and for the second time that day the angel found himself not replying to an inquiry posed by a Winchester.

"But that was just half the battle, wasn't it?" Dean continued, giving Sam's hand one more gentle squeeze before getting up and walking to the window of the bedroom. "We're still on the losing side of a war that might as well already be over. We're done for, and we're alone. Me 'n' Sammy... We started out aloen and we're going to die alone too. How's that for a happy ending."

Then he looked to his left and saw Cas, beside him with that ever present, serene, a-tornadoe-could-blow-through-right-now-and-I-wouldn't-bat-an-eyelash expression on. There was a question in his lost hazel eyes, one that _did _want an answer. One that _needed _an answer. And so Castiel gave him one.

"Do not worry. I am still here."


End file.
